


And He Will Be

by SilverSpoon6609



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSpoon6609/pseuds/SilverSpoon6609
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A blurb-ish thing that I just wrote post MSF. Spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And He Will Be

He doesn't look at her red tinged hair, he doesn't see the cast on her wrist or the cuts the would've become scars. He touches her hands, the ones that wound around his body and held him while he mourned their family. He pulls her hand into his and laces their fingers together, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. He barely grazes the grey sweater, the worn dirty fabric he had laid his hands on, leading her, carrying her, reaching out to her. He looks at her boots, touches the ankle that had caught in the trap.   
He can feel Rick look down at him, he can see Noah's feet shuffle and hear Carol crying behind him. His vision is blurry but he can't take his hands off her to wipe at his eyes. Rick is talking but it sounds muffled and far away, the first gunshot is still ringing in his ears.   
When he stands her arms don't wrap around his neck. Her head rolls back, it doesn't press against his shoulder. She doesn't giggle or smile up at him. He can't feel her breath filling the air. 

He carries her. It feels wrong and empty like the rest of him. She's so much heavier than she looks. 

His steps fumble. The weight and the way he's holding his breath have him swaying in the corridor. Rick lays a hand on his shoulder. He closes his eyes for a second, refocuses, and keeps moving. 

When he hears her sister cry out, sees her fall to the ground through his tear filled eyes, he hates himself. He hates that he was right when he screamed at her. He hates that she isn't wrapping her arms around his neck. He stands there until his knees give. Maggie reaches out and cradles one of her limp arms, touching her fingertips.   
He doesn't hide his tears or the desperate high pitched whines that escape his pursed lips. 

He lays her out in the fire truck, sits beside her, his leg pressed against hers. He doesn't look out the window, just at his own feet, obscured by the blurry lines of his hands. He focuses on shutting down every sob that shakes and rattles as it tries to claw out of his chest. He hears Maggie. She's still crying, every once in awhile she calls out her sisters name. Each time he hears it a new wave pain buries him deeper inside himself.


End file.
